


Accent

by naboru



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, Gen, General Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:02:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vortex and Blast Off share a calm moment, and some melancholy.</p><p>Vortex, Blast Off / PG / gen, fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accent

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Accent  
>  **Warnings:** gen, fuff  
>  **Continuity:** G1 (part of [Ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty)’s [Dysfunction AU](http://community.livejournal.com/lost_carcosa/19574.html#cutid1))  
>  **Characters:** Vortex, Blast Off  
>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Disclaimer:** Sadly, nothing is mine.  
>  **Summary:** Vortex and Blast Off share a calm moment, and some melancholy.  
>  **Beta:** [Ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty) *glomps* :D

Vortex was bored.

He sat opposite Blast Off in the rec-room of Combaticon HQ, elbows on the table, and chin resting on his hands. He stared at the reading shuttle, knowing he was skilfully ignored.

Blast Off sat there motionlessly; it was only when he drank from his energon that he moved.

It was anything else but exciting.

Vortex heaved air loudly. He rearranged his foot under the table, edging it carefully closer to the shuttle’s. He timed the moment when Blast Off drank again, the cube just at the other’s lip plates as Vortex nudged the shuttle’s aileron at the lower leg.

Blast Off choked. Energon ran down his chin, and dripped onto his chest. “Gah! Slag!” he cursed, engine revving, and optics glaring at Vortex. “You stupid glitch head!”

Vortex grinned behind his mask.

He watched Blast Off taking out a cloth, and cleaning the mess, and his smirk broadened as he was tempted to offer to help.

Vortex didn’t, though. Instead he frowned when he remembered something.

“You used to have an accent,” he said, seemingly unrelated.

Blast Off looked up, confusion for once visible. “Excuse me?”

Vortex’ optics roved over the purple-brown plating, and he continued. “Back in Kaon. You spoke pretty high Cybertronian, but you still had an accent. And sometimes you cursed in this thick dialect I couldn’t place.”

The shuttle froze.

Vortex snickered softly. “When you were really drunk, you often spoke in that, too, you know. I could hardly understand you then.”

There was no reply, only a shrug of strong shuttle shoulders, and Blast Off avoided Vortex’ look.

“I always guessed that dialect might be from HEX. Am I right?”

“It was back in Kaon. That was ages ago, it doesn’t matter now. We don’t even talk in Cybertronian any more.” Blast Off didn’t answer the question. He huffed, and purple optics dropped back on the datapad.

“I miss it,” Vortex muttered, thoughtfully, leaving it open if he meant Blast Off’s accent or the times in Kaon.


End file.
